


Winter Laughter

by devilinthedetails



Series: Gift of Joy [2]
Category: PIERCE Tamora - Works, Tortall - Tamora Pierce
Genre: Chill in the Air, Cold, F/M, Laughter, Love, Snow, Winter, warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:35:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25184143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilinthedetails/pseuds/devilinthedetails
Summary: In the winter, Jon and Thayet laugh.
Relationships: Jonathan of Conté/Thayet jian Wilima
Series: Gift of Joy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824448
Kudos: 6





	Winter Laughter

Winter Laughter

“There’s a chill in the air.” Jon had been searching for his wife for a long time and finally found her standing with no cloak, hat, or gloves on a balcony. Her hair blew in the gusts of wind off the Olorun and her black plait was studded with snowflakes that resembled pearls on a necklace. “Aren’t you cold? Won’t you come inside, my love?” 

He was trying to be solicitous even though he was worried about her sanity and what could possibly have prompted her to abandon sensible winter clothing designed to protect against the howling winds and cold snows of the season. 

“I’m not cold now,” Thayet answered, and Jon wondered if the heat flashes her pregnancy sometimes induced had rendered her unable to feel the chill in the starry air tonight. “A proud daughter of Sarain is never cold. We are known for the icy peaks of our mountains and our snowy plains of our steppes.” 

“Is that how you see yourself still?” Jon stared at the swirls of the balcony’s railing hidden under inches of snow. “A proud daughter of Sarain?” 

Would she ever define herself as truly Tortallan or would her childhood in Sarain always haunt and shape her? 

“I’ll always be a proud daughter of Sarain. What else would I be?” Thayet’s question was almost carried off on the wings of the wind before Jon could hear and respond to it. 

“My wife, the Queen of Tortall.” Jon reached out to take her bare hand in his gloved one. 

“Dear Jon, don’t worry.” Thayet laughed, and the sound ignited a fire in his chest. “I can be both a proud daughter of Sarain and your wife, the Queen of Tortall.” 

Her laugh made him laugh as well, and she took advantage of his amusement to hurl a snowball at his open mouth. The snowball hit his teeth and lips, freezing both. Spitting out flecks of snow, he said through chattering teeth, “There’s a chill in my teeth now.”

“That might be a sign you need to have some teeth pulled.” Thayet’s laughter rang ever louder now, and Jon could imagine it as a peal echoing across the palace grounds like a bell calling crowds to worship the sun in the Mithran chapel. 

He laughed as he rolled his own snowball and threw it at her shoulder. It made a satisfying, wet thud as it landed on its target, and he hoped that his wife would forever warm his winters with this freeing laughter and unspeakable joy that he felt flaming inside him at this moment.


End file.
